A Swordsman's Road
by Leelhiette
Summary: AU – Reborn once said that people who had suffered were mostly the kindest. Yamamoto Takeshi had been many things. But Harry Potter had been someone whom he hadn't been for a long time. If he had anything to say about it, it would stay that way.
1. Chapter 1: Rebirth

**Author's Note: **The Yoshida Hisui from Namimori History and Terra Incognita are two **different** people. Sorry for the mix up but I loved the name way too much. Anyways, one of the reason I chose Yamamoto for this is because he's the kind of guy I would imagine Harry to be if he had gained what he had in this fic. Not to mention, there are already several stories consisting of Harry being Hibari Kyouya and I loved it but I want to try something new for a change. I love Yamamoto Takeshi. And maybe next time, I'll try Gokudera (green eyes) or even just Reborn (although it was already used, I want to do it in my version). Or maybe that one where he's part of the Bovino and become's Lambo's older cousin. But before that, I want to tell you that the progress of my fics are slow due to not having a consistent laptop or PC at home. So, sorry for the inconvenience but be assured that I won't discontinue or abandon them. Thank you.

This fic will either be a three-five shot. But if it receives good responses by the end, then maybe I'll develop it into something more elaborate. But right now, it's just something more drabble-like.

_Enjoy~_

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* * *

**1.**

Harry Potter was five when the Dursleys abandoned him in Japan.

The fear and hunger were the most prominent things he could remember when he had lived in the streets of Japan. For a month, Harry could definitely say that it was the most hellish experience that he had gone through. He didn't understand a single thing about Japanese and he couldn't even read a single kanji for all he was worth.

When Uncle Vernon had announced that they were going to Japan with him on a business trip, Harry had been so surprised and elated that his relatives had thought to bring him with them. He could still recall Dudley throwing temper tantrums that they were going to bring his freakish cousin with them. Though, he could still remember the awe when he saw just how different the culture here was and how more peaceful Japan seemed to be than in England.

The truth hit him hard during the fifth day when he discovered that his relatives had up and left him without anything much to go on with.

He also remembered running away from the inn that he and his relatives had been staying in for fear of getting discovered and be brought to a torture chamber like how Uncle Vernon always told him. After all, freaks didn't even deserve to live. And Harry was supposed to be grateful to the Dursleys for even being alive.

Still, as he eyed the rolling ball towards his feet from where he was watching the older kids play at the park, Harry couldn't help himself as he picked up said ball and threw it back. The other kids yelled their thanks and Harry stared at them play some more.

Baseball was probably what saved him.

* * *

**2.**

He came back every day to watch the games. He was so envious at the carefree disregard for everything as they simply enjoyed their play. The other children must have noticed his rapt attention as one of the pitchers, Himura Asuma, approached him with an extra bat in one of his hands one day. The boy spoke rapidly and so excitedly that Harry could barely keep up. Even with his already five month stay in Japan as a street rat, he could hardly speak Japanese. Though, to be fair, he learnt some small words the longer he stayed.

Harry was smart enough to identify the word "join", "play", and "please". And it didn't even take more words as Asuma handed him the bat. Harry wordlessly trotted after the older boy. The rules were vague to him as he didn't really understand most of the words they were telling him. But having watched the game so many times, he had an inkling as to how to proceed, at least.

When he swung the bat at first, he had been disappointed when it only met empty air. But, for some reason, he could tell that he had merely swung it too early and missed the ball entirely.

Focusing his eyes on the ball this time, despite his slightly blurry vision due to his lost glasses after running away from what he had assumed to be a police officer, he gripped the bat tighter and firmed his stance. He didn't remember anything else as his mind focus on the loud clinking sound when the bat's surface made contact with the ball. He had watched with excited eyes as it flew at the edge of the park but far away enough for him to run and earn a base.

Then the game continued. Their team might not have won but it was admittedly a good and close game. At the end, the older kids had started to crowd around him and, he assumed from their enthusiastic and awed chatters, to congratulate him. Harry never had any friends before and looking at the friendly and cheerful smiles of the older children, he couldn't help but beam and enjoy the brief companionship.

Eventually, they bid their goodbyes since they had to go home but it didn't deter Harry from being happy.

From that day onwards, Harry always came back to the park and joined them in playing baseball. It didn't matter even if they had classes, they always arrived around the afternoon, anyway. At first, the kids were hesitant this time but after proving to them that he had a natural streak for the sport, they eventually got used to him. He hadn't known that they only thought of their first game as a one-time thing. But, he was glad nonetheless, that they had let him continue participating.

Almost every day, he was there to join them and it went to the point where two teams would always be competing on who he would play for.

That was the first time something made Harry feel needed.

Baseball saved his life. And he would forever cherish it by playing the sport with all the passion he had.

* * *

**3.**

Even with his status as a street urchin, Harry managed to get away with it with the older kids. They didn't question him where he lived or where his parents were, all they knew was that he was the resident baseball prodigy that always came to the park to play with them. Even though he hardly spoke, his grins and almost nonchalant personality drew them in. He was only trying to appear nonchalant because if he let his worries show, then they might know. And Harry couldn't let them know.

During his days of scavenging through the streets under the heat of the sun, he had gained a slight tan and, due to his missing glasses, he had to squint at a lot of things to get a better look. He might not know it but those were the things that let him blend in with the natives of Japan. If you only looked closer would you then find something remotely foreign about him. And his lack of anything nutritious in his meals had given him sharp features that further blurred the context of his foreign origins.

And, even then, he wasn't really idle. His time with the Dursleys made sure that he wouldn't stay like that for very long. Listening to adults' conversations and even just watching televisions through the appliance stores, he managed to at least relate some kanji to words or even phrases.

He never even considered speaking to other people in English. It would only mean being discovered and shipped off back to his relatives faster than he could comprehend. So he tried to learn more about Japanese instead.

What really pushed him to try harder was when one of the older kids finally demanded what his name was. At first, Harry didn't really understand (and they just assumed that he was either stupid or a slow learner when he couldn't always interpret what they were saying) and when one of the patient kids, Izuno, explained it as nicely as he could, Harry finally noticed that he never introduced himself.

When they departed ways, he had resolved to find a new name. Because, _he certainly wouldn't say Harry_. The way his relatives spat it with such venom would always remain with him. It was his name other than boy, freak, or spawn. But what difference did it make when the hate and disgust behind it was no different than the other names they threw at him?

So, he became determined in renaming himself in conjunction with this new (and more preferable) life.

But, Harry wouldn't know it, magic was a tricky thing. What most wizards disregarded and often ignored was that, magic mainly worked on the _intent _of the user. Harry's magic, as a child, was at its purest form and wasn't tainted. It's due to this that he was naturally protected from the dark piece of soul currently trapped within his scar. Still, it was due to his strong, determined, and _heartfelt_ intent for a new life that his magic did its work for him. His green eyes started to darken over time until it became golden brown with tints of green when the light hit it right. His skin had permanently retained the tan hue and he didn't even bat an eyelash at how his features stayed sharp and strong. He had merely assumed that it was due to his stay in Japan and, as uneducated as he was at the moment, he merely chucked it up as something natural.

It just so happens that when he had found a thrown comic book in an alley one night, the first kanji and name that he had managed to read was 'Takeshi'. The others were also considered but he thought about his struggle with the alphabet, the first word always left an impression. Besides, the name was common and, albeit forgettable, would help him assimilate himself better in this country. His magic had acknowledged his new name and, with it, his whole new identity as something he now _really_ was. Still, he might not be as intelligent as others, but he was wise and street-smart.

And that made all the difference.

* * *

**4.**

For a year, Harry–no, _Takeshi_ survived in the harsh streets of Japan in a town, he had just recently learned, named Namimori. He discovered that the reason he hadn't been shipped off to the nearest orphanage or, as his Uncle Vernon would tell him, a torture chamber for freaks like him, was because the law enforcement around the town was so lenient to the point that common thugs littered the dark alleys and, sometimes, even the local yakuza were out in the open. Takeshi made sure to avoid those people.

He had lived off on pickpockets (only from people who he saw didn't deserve it, mostly drunks and cruel adults) and leftovers from those few restaurants who would take pity on street children like him (which wasn't really different from living with the Dursleys, considering they barely fed him and usually let him spent days or a week at most without food and those days were always the worst since chores were done through sheer will power by then). But, he had learned early on that the world was a greedy place and it was a man for his own.

Still, when the leftovers were decidedly small, he sacrificed and chose to let the younger ones have it and when he couldn't find people to pickpocket, he would merely go to the park, find a suitable tree to climb and sleep on. For some reason, he never had a problem with it and he never fell down, to his relief. Though, some days were just hard when those few supplies weren't available and he had to disagree when the older kids that he knew from the park insisted on inviting him for dinner to hang out every other day.

Though, after a particularly good game once, Takeshi as oblivious as he pretended to be, hadn't been able to refuse their invitation to dine with them this time.

Still, as time went on, he had gradually grown into the character of an easy-going boy. He didn't want to trouble other people with his problems and, acting as he did, helped in making himself forget his own worries. Uncle Vernon did always state that ignorance was bliss, didn't he? And, as his stay in Japan went longer, he discovered that ignoring everything was better than depressing over it and making himself more miserable wouldn't really improve his situation.

So, even as he was mentally calculating the costs of the food he ordered–a plate of the cheapest sushi they offered and a glass of water–he just laughed with the others as one of them tried to hit it off with a joke and failed. He just grinned when night struck and the others had to go home. He cheerfully bid them goodbye even if most of them offered to walk with him. Still, he only had half of the money needed to pay the food and he was planning on asking the owner if he could just work for the excess. If that didn't work, well, he'd worry about it later as he approached the counter and looked over the man staring back at him curiously.

"A-Anou," He stated hesitantly with his grin still in place as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. He brought out what money he had on him to show the owner as he chuckled at his own misfortune. He found out that finding hilarity within his problems always helped from angering or disheartening him instead. And he found no use in being angry anyway. It only made him unable to think properly and he found out that he mostly did things he didn't mean when he was enraged.

So, he settled for trying to always see the good in every little thing. It helped in setting his mind at ease and quenching his temper almost effortlessly.

It was only due to this overly optimistic attitude that he was surviving his darker days out in the streets of a foreign country by himself.

"It's alright," The man waved off with a sigh as he collected money from the boy. "Kids these days... always are biting off more than they can chew." He shook his head exasperatedly and Takeshi instantly felt guilty and embarrassed about it.

"I-will...work!" Takeshi declared loudly in a slightly awkward and choppy manner. He might have grown slightly adept in understanding the Japanese language over the year but it never meant that he was fluent in speaking. In fact, most people (even the older kids) thought of him as someone stupid due to his inability to communicate properly. Still, he persisted since those people didn't know about his situation and, instead, laughed when they started to tease or mock him about it.

Because, as carefree and easy-going as he was, Takeshi couldn't and _wouldn't_ let them know. The scorn from his relatives was already enough to last him a lifetime.

Yamamoto Tsuyoshi looked at him from behind the counter in surprise and a little disbelief.

"Eh?" He raised an eyebrow at the determined expression on the boy's face. "Look, little guy, I was just kidding. Don't need to worry about it. I've had several youngsters who had run from payment before. It was already a miracle that you were honest about this one. But it's fine," He soothed when he saw the guilt and protest making its way in the boy's amber eyes.

Takeshi shook his head vehemently.

"_No_, I-will...work!" He asserted more firmly this time, almost pleadingly.

"It's already late, your parents might get worried," Tsuyoshi went for a different route instead, his eyes sharpening when the boy merely shook his head once again. But, the man had seen the sign. He was a retired assassin but he had managed to survive for so long for a reason. There was no worry in the boy's stance and certainly no thought about other people who might be concerned over him. Children only developed that kind of disposition when they really didn't have anyone to be bothered over them.

After all, most kids in the mafia were the same.

And the slight awkwardness in speech bothered him. Even other younger street children or orphans could speak fluently than this kid. And that thought worried him on a whole other level as he stared at the resolute if not tired and weary eyes of the boy. Either he hadn't been raised in Japan or the ones who (previously) raised him spoke a different language.

"Fine," Tsuyoshi finally agreed when the other looked on the verge of begging.

Neither knew that it would change both of their lives for the better.

* * *

**4.**

It didn't take long for Tsuyoshi to find out about the boy's real situation. The boy was a street kid and always scraped for leftovers from those few restaurants which he knew always took pity on young children without homes. Still, suspecting and knowing about it was entirely different from seeing it up close. This wasn't the first time that he had encountered something like this. But what made Takeshi different was how he was still able to laugh and smile despite his situation. He always went to the park to play baseball with those older kids and gave everyone the benefit of the doubt whereas, other kids like him, always seemed to have a hard time even talking to anyone on a level that the boy was able to do.

So, to help the boy, Tsuyoshi had given it in a form of a request to ask for the boy's help around the shop as long as he didn't touch anything valuable or things from his workplace (especially the knives) in exchange for a platter of freshly made sushi and a glass of milk. The boy had looked at him in shock and slight scepticism on why anyone would've bothered before he grinned and heartily accepted the offer.

Takeshi was naive but he was exceptionally wise for his age and his heart was in the right place. And Tsuyoshi never regretted what he did when, beyond food and milk, he had offered to brush the boy's literacy. He was very glad that he did since he could still remember feeling dismayed and perturbed when he realized that Takeshi could understand but hardly speak Japanese, could barely read any hiragana or kanji, and honestly didn't know a thing about anything remotely Japanese other than what he witnessed from the streets.

That was when the boy had finally shown the signs of a jaded and mistrustful boy usually found in his case.

He didn't want to speak about how he came to be like this or why he apparently didn't even have knowledge close to anything Japan-oriented. The boy didn't look foreign but his slip ups were already clues that the boy wasn't raised in Japan. If anything, when Tsuyoshi threatened to give him to the police, did he get anything substantial when the boy finally broke and cried out '_No, please!_' in fluent English. Thanks to his previous line of work, Tsuyoshi was fluent in several languages.

After that, it was a very fearful Takeshi who had finally confessed that he was raised in England and was abandoned by his relatives in Japan a year and a half ago. He didn't want to approach the authority about it for fear of being taken to a 'torture chamber' for 'freaks' like him as his uncle had told him they would. It angered Tsuyoshi to learn that the boy was obviously neglected and abused before he came to Japan. If anything, to the boy, being abandoned was probably the next best thing that happened to him. And admitting his situation had terrified him because he thought that he would be either given back to his relatives if anyone found out, or people would simply hate him for being a 'freak' like his relatives repeatedly labelled him as.

There was one thing that the boy refused to disclose, though, and that was his real name. Tsuyoshi didn't pry any further than that.

He might have been severely hesitant at first but when the boy arrived at his shop one day with a feverish flush to his cheeks, but still grinning and determined to work, Tsuyoshi knew that he would have to do it when no one else would. Besides, he had already quitted his job and all he had now was his family's dojo and sushi shop. It wouldn't hurt to take the boy in.

And he only became resolute in his decision when he saw the surprise, wonder, and _hope_ in the boy's eyes after informing him.

* * *

**5.**

Takeshi didn't know how the man did it.

He really didn't.

At first, when Yamamoto Tsuyoshi had sat him down at the living room located just above the sushi shop, he had been extremely anxious and nervous. He had thought that he would be able to keep quiet about his situation for much longer. But Tsuyoshi had threatened to give him to the authorities. It could be the 'torture chamber' or, if there was something he learned while he was still in England, there was a chance that he would just be forced on his relatives like those two rare times when Uncle Vernon 'accidentally forgot' him in London.

If anything, in a momentary haze of fear, he just spoke and _spoke_ until all his worries were spilling out of his mouth in a language that he hadn't used for some time. English, surprisingly, still came naturally to him and, before he knew it, he was already begging the man from doing as he had said.

Takeshi, before that day, honestly liked Yamamoto Tsuyoshi. It was due to him why he had two full meals a day for letting him help around the shop in exchange. And those meals were always better than any leftovers that he had to eat (either from those restaurants or scraps from the Dursleys). Sushi and milk would always be the food that could make him cry tears of joy any time of the day and he would always be grateful to the sushi chef for it.

Still, even if the man promised that he wouldn't do as he had threatened, Takeshi couldn't stop the wariness he had developed every time he would go to the shop. Things had been awkward between them and even if Takeshi tried to laugh it off, the worry would always bubble within him. Because then, it never stopped bothering him when he would be sent back to England, to the Dursleys, and to that cupboard as his prison. He realized that he had enjoyed the independence too much, cherished the freedom for once, and relished the feeling of having the older kids as his friends so much.

He had thought about hiding and never showing his face to Tsuyoshi once and for all to alleviate his fears. But, Takeshi really liked Tsuyoshi. And he would trust the man.

Though, Takeshi still didn't know how Tsuyoshi did it.

When the man had questioned him if Takeshi wanted to be adopted, he had assumed that he had been dreaming even when he agreed. It hadn't been until it was made official in the papers and Tsuyoshi was showing him his new would-be bedroom that it hit Takeshi hard like a bullet train. As he read the name _Yamamoto Takeshi_ in the papers, he couldn't honestly believe that someone would be willing to take him in. He was just Takeshi, a street kid with nothing but determination and rags-as-clothes on his back, a freak, and nothing really special. So, he couldn't help it as he cried and laughed and thought that maybe, the gods took pity on him and finally listened to his prayers and pleas.

When asked, Takeshi told him that his birthday was in April 24th, the day that he had changed his name, and accepted it as it is since his relatives never informed him about the real one and he never celebrated it at school during Nursery, so he had assumed that it was either during Christmas break or summer.

Now, what really bugged him was not knowing how the man did it.

The older kids relentlessly complained on why he hadn't told them that the sushi chef was his dad. They just assumed that he had tried to keep it a secret from them. But the confusing thing was, those people from the few restaurants that he had managed to seek food from, didn't remember him other than being 'that Tsuyoshi's son'. And to this day, as he now officially helped the man in the shop as his new son, Takeshi couldn't understand how the man did what he did.

He was happy and that was all that mattered as he climbed on the stool and wiped the table clean before any customers showed up. For once, he could grin for all he was worth and actually mean it without worries holding him back. Though, his intentionally ignorant character and optimistic attitude stayed. Takeshi honestly didn't know if it was really him anymore or if it was just a coping mechanism. But, he was _happy_ and Takeshi didn't agonize over it any longer.

It was the first time Takeshi had someone to call family.

Yamamoto Tsuyoshi saved him and more. So, Takeshi would always love his new father with all his heart.

* * *

**6.**

He was seven when Tsuyoshi finally deigned him decent enough to enter Elementary.

Takeshi had been excited and scared at the same time. It finally came to a point where he would be able to socialize with kids his age. In fact, the older kids he knew assured him that it would be just fine. His Japanese was understandable enough even if he stumbled a little now and then but it was a vast improvement to how it had been before. He still had a long way to go when it came to kanji though, even if Tsuyoshi repeatedly swore that most kids his age had the same problem and was still at the stage where hiragana and katakana still dominated most of their alphabets.

It only served to reassure him some, but not entirely.

Still, it had been such a surprise to discover that he was the second tallest in his class. He assumed, since Tsuyoshi told him that he had been malnourished, that it wouldn't be the case. But then again, he remembered having a mousy and miniature Asian classmate during nursery (although they called it Kindergarten in Japan) and how his homeroom teacher, Mrs. Wilson, once commented that Asian people were naturally short people compared to western people. He didn't comprehend what it really meant at the time but seeing himself tower over most of the kids in his class, he couldn't help but think that he might just understand now what she had been talking about back then.

The lessons were fun. Takeshi did always love learning especially when there was someone willing to teach him. When he had been three and had been a very curious child, he could remember babbling happily and asking Aunt Petunia all sorts of questions. Back then, when he was very small, she wasn't overly cruel and would hesitantly answer most of his queries. He didn't recall much but his last memory about the woman was how she had locked him out of the inn's room. His relatives disappeared the morning after that.

When he introduced himself, he couldn't help but muse at how different his life had turned out to be. And he was very glad that it did as he gave his brightest smile.

"Yo! I'm Yamamoto Takeshi," He tried to ignore the warm fluttering in his chest as he said that. He didn't know when he would be able to get over the fact that just hearing _Yamamoto_ in his name always made him tremendously happy to the point when other people called him 'Yamamoto-san' or 'Yamamoto-kun', he would always beam back happily (with a touch of pride). "I love my tou-san, sushi, and milk." And he couldn't just go with 'like' since it was too light a word to describe his feelings. "And I love baseball, I hope to be able to join the school's team when I reach third grade," He chuckled and thought that maybe he said too much as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

Takeshi would always remember this moment.

This day was the starting point of when he formally began his new life.

* * *

**7.**

Takeshi didn't know how to handle the attention.

He was in third grade now.

Even if he had always been friendly to other people, instilled reactions were rather hard to cope with. The Dursleys pretty much ruined his self-esteem to the point that describing him as simply humble was a severe understatement. He never thought of himself as good in anything and rather just enjoyed things in a level that most children his age took for granted. And since he had been used to keeping his worries to himself, he had never learned to let go of the habit of deluding himself that everything was fine and the need not to burden other people. So, when he lost his book, he just laughed and told his _dad_ (his heart still skipped a beat giddily at that) that it wasn't a big deal since they rarely used it in class anyway. When one of the kids called baseball stupid, even if he was irritated and wanted to get mad, he just grinned and told that kid that he would still play the sport even if it was the stupidest thing invented. When he saw other children interacting with their mothers, he would just smile and ignore the ache in his heart, always wondering if his real mother ever loved him.

Tsuyoshi, though, learned that he wasn't always honest to himself. But it was fine, the man told him that if he couldn't be honest to himself, at least he could try to be honest to his dad. And that made all the effort much bearable.

Growing up with relatives who pretty much hated his very existence, a neighbourhood who thought so lowly of him due to his 'good-for-nothing parents', and children who despised him at first sight due to a contemptuous cousin, Takeshi pretty much expected things to either be the same in Namimori or just be avoided and left alone. So, he just grinned when other kids always approached him about one thing or another and always made it a point to interact with him. He honestly didn't know what drew them in.

He didn't know how to handle the attention.

His grades were better than he expected (since he didn't want to let his dad down) and he was one of the top students in his grade level (usually in the seventh or eighth place), especially in English, and he did make due of his promise. Since he was now in third grade, he had tried out for the baseball team and due to acquaintances he always played with at the park, he had been backed up by several recommendations. He found himself being welcomed excitedly by new peers and, unexpectedly on his part, his popularity only seemed to expand further.

Apparently, the girls thought that he was cute and smart. The guys thought that he was cool, friendly, and helpful.

His father was proud of his accomplishments and Tsuyoshi had closed the sushi shop for the day in order for them to celebrate. Takeshi couldn't remember when was the last time he had felt such joy as he did that moment. The man had prepared his favourite sushi dish; toro and hamachi, and the man would always have a tall glass of milk beside it. Takeshi never complained as he grew to love the drink and was just happy that, even with this simple lifestyle, it never failed to make him the happiest. Tsuyoshi had also informed him that he would be starting to teach his son kendo and the ways of the sword. Takeshi had protested at first since it was evidently very important to the man and he wasn't convinced if he was the right person to inherit something his father had been very proud of since he could remember. But then, Tsuyoshi had effectively shot down his argument, saying that he wouldn't have bothered to adopt Takeshi if he wasn't even certain in the first place. And Takeshi resolved that he would do his best for the man.

He didn't know if he would ever be able to handle the attention. But, his dad made it liveable.

So, he smiled, laughed, and grinned and thought that anything was better than being hated.

* * *

**8.**

It was during fifth grade when Takeshi learned that popularity comes with a price.

Baseball was as fun as he always remembered it to be and honestly fell in love with the sport the more he played it. It didn't take long for the captain and the coach of the team to take notice of his raw potential. They always pushed him hard but Takeshi was just only too happy to comply. Baseball was an important aspect of his life now and, even if people wouldn't understand his devotion to it, he would always regard it as one of his saviours.

His grades were still good and he made sure to always balance it out with his extra-curricular activity during that one time he almost failed an exam in science. Their training had been intense that day and he had been so tired to even bother lifting a book and embedding theories and terms into his head. Tsuyoshi didn't mind as long as he knew where his real priorities lay.

Yamamoto Takeshi was naive.

He didn't know what really made him so but it was what his father always remarked when looking at him.

Still, he might just believe it after his most numbing discovery.

Popularity comes with a price.

Takeshi didn't know if he preferred the outright hostility or the crude remarks behind his back while he wasn't listening. The coach had called him to stay after practice one Wednesday afternoon while his teammates piled in the locker room. The man, Hitokiri Shun-sensei, told him to keep up his record and he would surely be a professional player by the time he was eighteen. Expectedly, he had blushed at the praise and thanked the man profusely. He wouldn't know just how much those words meant to Takeshi.

As he was dismissed and moving to the locker room, he heard most of the guys laughing.

He grinned and was about to barge in and surprise them when he heard his name. Naturally, he was curious and leaned on the wall just beside the doorway outside the room. The hallway was devoid of any student since class had left off early. So, he wondered what they were discussing and was already planning of ways to tease them of gossiping about him like how the other girls had grown prone to do nowadays. And if there was something that easily annoyed them, it was being compared to girls.

"Geez, that Yamamoto, always hogging the attention!" One of the guys, Takeshi was sure that it was Sasaki Shouta, stated contemptuously and an obvious frown could be heard in his tone. "I mean, I get it, he's good at baseball but he's also good in academics. So, what's the _big deal_?"

Takeshi froze.

_What?_

"You're just jealous," A voice, Inoue Ryuusuke, mocked with a scoff. There was a period of silence. "But, I would be to, I guess, considering Yamamoto's practically everybody's favourite," He amended hastily but there was a subtle bitterness in his words.

"The girls just loved him. He's smart and athletic. But, damn, that guy just smiles too much. I can still remember when some jealous brat intentionally spilled juice on his jersey last year. And _what _does he do? The guy laughs it off as if the brat's just tripped and did it accidentally," Takeshi could no longer identify the owner of the voice. They had started to mix up and become distorted somewhere along the lines of the animosity and resentment he was hearing.

There was some shuffling and Takeshi didn't dare move or breathe.

"But, hey, he's good at baseball and we need him on the team. I may not really like him but I like to graduate elementary with a victory written in my record," Another remarked almost offhandedly as if he just hadn't stated that he had every intention of using Takeshi.

Said boy was numb as he gripped the rim of his baseball cap tightly, his hand shaking all the while.

"Got to give the guy some credit, though, he's really helpful. My homework in mathematics were all straight A's due to him." Someone laughed and it was followed by the others.

"Still, if he isn't just..._too good_–"

Takeshi had enough.

"Yo, guys! Sorry for the wait!" Takeshi barged in loudly as he grinned, ignoring the way their eyes widened or how they squirmed in his sudden presence. He continued grinning as he went to his locker and immediately packed his things.

It was suspiciously silent.

"Hey, aren't you going to take a shower first? You stink, Yamamoto," Shouta teased him almost good-naturedly but Yamamoto already heard him. And this time, he wasn't blind to the dislike burning in the other's gaze.

"Ha-ha, my dad needs me early today, something about helping in the shop," He laughed and avoided meeting any of their stares.

They easily agreed with his reason and let him leave it like that.

As he trotted out of the locker room, he broke into a sprint and it wasn't until he was outside the school gates did he slow his stride. His smile was still intact but it wasn't until he felt something warm in his cheeks did he realize that he was also crying. He hastily wiped them away. If Tsuyoshi saw him like this, then the man would worry and it was the last thing Takeshi wanted. He didn't know if he should feel relieved to know the truth or not.

He knew that he couldn't always make people like him but he hadn't honestly realized that even his friends hated him too. Removing his cap, he laughed and it hurt because it sounded so hollow, and he inwardly conceded that laughing was certainly better than crying. It meant being able to mask the hurt, even for a moment.

During the next few days, he wasn't as surprised as he should be by then to discover that several people shared the same opinion of him and he wondered where he went wrong. But he couldn't hate them for it, because surely, it was his fault. At least, not all of them hated him.

Popularity comes with a price. But Takeshi never asked for popularity to begin with.

* * *

**9.**

By the time he graduated elementary, he got mediocre and barely passable grades in his records.

Tsuyoshi was undoubtedly furious with him but Takeshi wouldn't budge and just tell him that maybe he just wasn't that smart to begin with. The man didn't believe him but he obviously suspected something was up when Takeshi stopped inviting his team or any of his friends over the shop since the start of sixth grade.

He still played baseball. But, he wasn't doing it for the team anymore. He now knew that.

Though, looking back through his previous years, he was glad that the odd things which kept on happening to him before (like turning something into different colors, or that time an object flew to his hand without question, _or_ that time he woke up on the living room when he had been sure that he fell asleep on his bed) had dulled. Though, curiously enough, it was when he had started learning kendo from his father. He didn't know what Tsuyoshi had seen in him but his father always emphasized on _resolve_. The man had so far only taught him the basics since he wasn't old enough or didn't have the resolve Tsuyoshi was looking for in order to pass down his techniques yet. Takeshi wouldn't give up. For his father.

Even though he knew what they really thought of him, it didn't stop Takeshi from reaching out to them. His team had gotten mellower over the year and, somehow, Takeshi felt that he was making progress. He didn't know if they still disliked him but the resentment in their eyes had died down into respect. The teachers and some of his classmates were baffled at the sudden decline of his grades but Takeshi had always been good at ignoring most of everything. So he laughed it off and gave the same excuse that he gave his father.

And people were not born cruel, so Takeshi gave everyone a chance, after all, there had been those people who disliked him initially but had warmed up to him after some time. He still had mixed feelings about his popularity but at least, it was more bearable.

He wondered how Sasagawa Kyoko could handle it and, sometimes, he couldn't even tell who was better at being ignorant between the two of them.

* * *

**10.**

Middle school was not really that different from elementary. Except, there's this really cool guy who beat anyone who broke the school rules.

And the social ladder that he had managed to intentionally overlook reared its head more evidently. So, it had been no shock to him when more people swarmed to him and Sasagawa. Sometimes, the lines blurred between 'friends' and 'fans' to him.

Though, that was when he also started to take notice of Sawada Tsunayoshi. The boy who was at the very bottom of the proverbial food chain. Most of their classmates addressed him as Dame-Tsuna and Takeshi just mostly gently chastised others about calling other people names. They only did it when he was there, but most of the time, he knew the mocking would always be present. Still, the shorter boy didn't really mind that much and he never let himself be pressured into being someone he wasn't just because everybody didn't want who he was. For that alone, he had earned Takeshi's respect and admiration.

After all, he had sacrificed his grades just for that reason alone.

He remembered his dad's words. If he couldn't be honest to himself, at least, he should try to be honest to his dad. Takeshi didn't know if he had even tried in the first place.

Still, one of the major changes that would start occurring to him during the start of middle school was having Tanaka Ichirou knocking on their doorstep.

He was a Representative for the Japanese Magical Federation.

Takeshi wouldn't know that it was just one of the many things to come. After all, unknown to anyone just yet, a specific Arcobaleno had already set his sights on him. It was just a matter of time when everything would fall into place.

* * *

_TBC..._

* * *

**Important Notes: **First of all, I know that Takeshi learned Kendo properly just before the fight with the Varia. But I believe that even with how athletic he was and had fast reflexes from being a 'natural born hitman', I don't think he could just master the art of the sword in a week especially when against someone of Squalo's calibre. At least, with the basics already instilled within him, it would be more believable how he had strived to master the forms of the Shigure Soen Ryu within such short notice. Even Reborn surely didn't master how use a gun properly within a day. As for how learning Kendo helped in controlling his magical outburst, I learned that Kendo was also about temperament and since magic always worked on emotions and intent, it would be toned down. Especially since what I have in mind regarding about it. Both flames and magic are part of a person's life force, right? So, imagine if you could only use one of them. You can't have both at the same time. It would be one of the highlights in my story. Regardless, whether Tsuyoshi and Takeshi were aware of it or not, the resolve in learning his father's art had awakened Takeshi's potential to use his Rain Flames earlier. That's why he manages to light the flame on his ring on his first try in the Future Arc.

_Please leave a review on your thoughts about this fic._


	2. Chapter 2: Turning Point

**Author's Note: **Thank you for those wonderful reviews! I am so happy about the positive response. Anyways, this chapter contains mainly a little angst and a little about magic. For those who are wondering, yes, the HP world will still appear but not in the way you think. **Clue(s):** The situation will be different from what happened in the Future Arc to what will happen in the present due to the inevitable interference. (If you're confused, let me explain: In the Future Arc, the Vongola was destroyed thanks to Byakuran. But thanks to the mentioned interference, Vongola was ready and would be able to prevent that disastrous event with the Millefiore Famiglia). And it had to do with his scar too. **Now**, as for those who were asking if the Horcrux is still there, the answer would be **yes**. The scar isn't just as visible or prominent in a sense now since there was no dark mark to trigger it or Voldemort hasn't fully come back to life yet to torture Harry with its presence. It will be tackled on in later chapters. Another thing I want to make clear, I don't plan on doing any pairings...yet. As of now, I just want it to be **GEN **since this is a life changing story. But if the reviewers persist, I might give hints but I don't even know whom I'll even go for.

As for the slight angst, well, I made Takeshi pretty jaded so please bear with it. And the progress is kind of slow but I wanted to be elaborate on how this Takeshi is different from canon even if he is pretty similar mostly. So...

_Enjoy._

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* * *

**11.**

Tsuyoshi sighed as Takeshi locked himself in his room.

Tanaka Ichirou was an acquaintance of his at the side of the magical spectrum. But, his son didn't need to know that because that meant also admitting why he even had contacts to begin with and, as accepting as Takeshi was with most things, Tsuyoshi wasn't sure how his son would take it if he discovered that his father used to kill people for a living. Still, he had seen the signs in Takeshi when he had turned ten three years ago.

So, it hadn't been exactly a surprise when Ichirou was informing him about his son's supposed magical abilities. Ichirou was half-Japanese and half-German in his early thirties with sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He was a professional sniper for the Ambrosio Famiglia when they were still around before he formally joined the Japanese Magical Federation around eight years ago. Tsuyoshi wasn't clear on the details about the destruction of said Famiglia but he was certain that it had been the major reason why his colleague had turned his back on the Mafia world.

"I never knew you were married," Ichirou remarked nonchalantly as he calmly took a sip of his sake.

"I never said I was," Tsuyoshi responded with a humourless smile.

The magical representative hummed which told the sushi chef that whatever hunch the man was harbouring had just been proven correct. Takeshi, who had just gone back home and still in his baseball uniform, stared at them in slight confusion as he scratched the back of his head.

"Yo, tou-san," The boy grinned at him while taking the stool next to Ichirou with cautious disregard. The action seemed nonchalant but Tsuyoshi had known the boy for almost eight years to tell that the boy was on his guard but didn't want to be obvious about it. That was always how Takeshi functioned when around people he got a feel of. Even Tsuyoshi was baffled at the boy's instincts, it never failed. And the boy would only become comfortable when his instincts stopped acting up.

It scared Tsuyoshi how that major attribute told him of the boy's upbringing before being adopted. Takeshi was just good at either ignoring those instincts or acting like he completely ignored them. Even he sometimes couldn't tell which. His son had always been naive that way.

"You're home early," He remarked instead as he gazed at his son with an apprehensive eye.

"Practice was cancelled," Takeshi laughed as he removed his baseball cap. "Figured that I could be home early,"

Sometimes, Tsuyoshi couldn't remember when Takeshi started preferring home most of the time than spending times with those numerous friends he had managed to obtain. After all, he could still remember his complaining patrons about their unruly children who would rather favour hanging out late with buddies and were rarely at home nowadays. Part of him, shamefully, was glad but he still couldn't help but worry.

"Takeshi-kun, was it?" Ichirou cut in with a pleasant smile.

Said boy blinked before his grin widened.

"Hey, you know my name!" He exclaimed brightly, his amber eyes subtly sliding to Tsuyoshi with obvious question.

"I'm a previous... _associate_ of your father," The sandy blonde haired man smirked in apparent amusement. Tsuyoshi wanted to slap a hand on his forehead. When Ichirou was in one of _those _moods, he had been a right cryptic bastard.

Something must have clued Takeshi in about the man's intentions since he leaned his elbow on the counter and leaned his cheek on the palm of his hand. His grin had died down into a lingering half-smile as he eyed the man in interest. Tsuyoshi knew that Takeshi was finally letting his guard down. He discovered that the boy was always easy to do that around people. If his son had been raised in the Mafia, that habit would've been one of the factors that could get him killed.

Shaking his head, Tsuyoshi knew that he had to stop thinking like that if he really wanted to leave that business behind him.

"So, what kind of sushi do you make?" Takeshi questioned in that oblivious manner that always made Tsuyoshi want to bash the boy's head. But he knew that his son had always tried to overlook things intentionally when he got a bad feeling about it. Ichirou's presence must have set an alarm within the boy. And Tsuyoshi was hardly surprised.

"The magical kind," Ichirou replied steadily.

Tsuyoshi knew that he should be worried when the smile on his son's face froze.

"He has something to tell you," He stated carefully, watching Takeshi's expression very closely. "I believe it has something to do with those... strange instances that have been happening around the shop sometimes,"

Takeshi might not admit it to anyone, or even to himself, but those incidences always bothered the boy in an alarming rate. He might be good at covering up his reactions with forced obliviousness and a laugh but Tsuyoshi didn't imagine it when the boy's hands would shake or how his countenance would pale slightly. So, he was surprised when instead of the usual reaction, his son gained this unusual solemn look that he had only seen once when he had yelled at the boy due to how his grades had regressed by the time he would be graduating Elementary.

Sometimes, he didn't know which he preferred. The deliberate ignorant behaviour or this sombre countenance that showed the years the boy had grown too early for. He had done his best to be the boy's father and Tsuyoshi would never regret it. There were just those times when he felt that his son was holding out on him.

"So, magic's real?" Takeshi gave a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he avoided their gaze. "I guess it was too much to hope for when I didn't want it to be,"

That statement had both adults tensing in unease.

"You knew?" Ichirou questioned carefully, his lips pursed into a grim line.

Takeshi snorted.

"Rather hard not to when your relatives abandoned you for having it," The boy laughed and Tsuyoshi couldn't help but look at the boy he had raised with something akin to deep understanding and a little sympathy. Though, at least, he had removed some of the boy's doubts regarding if he would ever be shipped back to those horrible people. His ability to finally speak about it in the open told him as much.

The boy might not realize it. But his greatest fear was to be hated. He figured it as one of the reasons why Takeshi always went out of his way to be kind and to forgive.

As if that would always make a difference but, as always, Takeshi had always been naive that way.

"Did they?"

Something malicious gleamed in Ichirou's eye and Tsuyoshi knew that look _too well _for his own peace of mind.

"I'm fine and I'll never leave tou-san," Takeshi shrugged and Tsuyoshi had to smile at the finality behind his son's words but there was an uncertainty in his eye that spoke of something else. "So, you have... magic too, huh? I didn't know that there were others like me," He gave a soft smile and his shoulders slumped in what looked to be something like defeat and relief at the same time.

"Oh, there are others like _us_," Ichirou intoned gravely. "In fact, there's a whole population of us just hidden from the whole world. One of the reasons I'm here is to inform you about it. Another is so you can control it. Lastly, I'm giving you the choice if you want to enter our world or not,"

Now, Ichirou had Tsuyoshi's undivided attention. Usually, in Japan, the protocol about magical children weren't as early compared to western countries due to the abundance of magic saturating the very environment of the country, thus, making it easier for most to control it unknowingly. According to his colleague, they waited much longer because the magical government didn't want to pull the potential wizards out as soon as possible from the non-magical's world. Because, no matter how one country tried to integrate both magic and non-magical sides, it was too risky and they just couldn't depend the lives of their people on the hope that the non-magical ones would just accept them.

Still, he knew for a fact that it was a requirement for Takeshi to learn. The only time he would be given a choice would be...

The _mafia_.

And he didn't like that implication behind Ichirou's words.

"I'll think about it, is that alright?" Takeshi smiled at the man as he stood up from his stool before facing Tsuyoshi with a grin. "Tou-san, I'll be up in my room, I'll be down in time for dinner," The boy stated as he went upstairs, a certain haste in his steps that wasn't supposed to be there.

Tsuyoshi had let Ichirou do the talking but bringing _that_ up to Takeshi was another matter entirely. Especially when he didn't want his son to be involved.

"Ichirou..." He stated lowly with a bit of anger.

"You can't protect him forever, Tsuyoshi," The other man merely replied. "Especially when someone's been keeping tabs on him,"

For Ichirou not to give a name meant that it wasn't someone with malicious intent.

But it didn't give Tsuyoshi any ease as he stared at his colleague's piercing eyes and knew that he couldn't disagree with the man's statement.

It just didn't mean that he wouldn't try.

* * *

**12.**

Takeshi had tried to deny it for years. Every time he had to put an object back to place because it floated to him on its own or every moment he had to go back to his room because he didn't remember falling asleep in the leaving room or his father's room, he felt the trickle of fear within him increase. It had been one of the reasons why he took Kendo so seriously. It had toned down those instances that they rarely happened then.

He tried to act as if he didn't know why Uncle Vernon always called him a freak. But he could always remember the fear that would flicker in the man's eyes when things accidentally happened around him for no apparent reason. He wasn't _that_ oblivious.

Still, unlike what he told his father, he hadn't gone back downstairs in time for dinner but until he was certain that Tanaka-san was gone. When he did, it was merely to look his father in the eye and tell him something that Takeshi always wanted to say.

"Trust me,"

* * *

**13.**

Tanaka-san hadn't exactly given him a deadline about his choice. But it weighed heavily on his mind like a burden. He only realized it when some of his classmates had pointed out that he was being more absentminded lately but Takeshi didn't even have the heart to tell them anything when their eyes were sparkling with something not so sincere. Still, he had tried to get his mind off of it and he tried to ignore it when things would clatter around them in time with his conflicted emotions. He could've sworn that his heart was just about to jump out of his throat during those instances.

He should probably thank Sawada Tsunayoshi.

Even if Yamamoto was hard-pressed not to admit it, he found the brunette's way of confessing to Sasagawa a little amusing. In fact, if he wasn't as rattled as he was about the sudden revelation brought to him by Tanaka Ichirou, he would've probably found the event much odd compared to the happenings around him. After all, what did floating objects have against middle school students who would yell out their confession so early in the morning with nothing but their boxers and a strange flame on their forehead?

In fact, he was so amazed that he commented about it to one of their classmates.

"Sawada's so brave, huh?" He grinned to himself as he watched the boy face Mochida head on that afternoon. "Lately, he's just... been doing things on his own. I'm really envious!" He laughed good-naturedly, but inwardly, meant every word.

"Dame-Tsuna's just grown some back bone, big deal," One of the guys scoffed dismissively.

But Takeshi just smiled and outright laughed when the brunette they were talking about ripped a good portion of their upperclassman's hair. Normally, he wouldn't take amusement out of other people's pain but Sawada's expression just looked so... fierce and he didn't even care that the whole school was watching him in his boxers once again. Takeshi wondered when was the last time he had been as honest.

Though, he figured prancing around the school in his boxers was a bit much.

* * *

**14.**

Takeshi knew that he wasn't normal by any means.

Sometimes, he couldn't differentiate if he actually meant it in a good way or in a bad way. Still, looking at himself in the mirror, he knew that the boy he originally once was, was no longer entirely recognizable. But still, if someone knew what to exactly look for, then they would be able to see. His amber eyes were narrower and held a strong shade of green hue when the light hit it and more than one of his female classmates had called his eyes 'pretty' due to it. His face still held the same profile when he was still someone else, if a bit angular and sharper around the edges. His skin had never retained its paleness but that was fine, he reasoned that it was well-worth it by playing baseball under the sun for copious amounts of time. If anything, he was surprised to see that he just appeared like an older Japanese version of..._him_. Then, the _scar_ that basically singled him out of most people wasn't as noticeable as it once had been. His fingers carefully traced the pale lightning-bolt shaped line that run across his forehead before hastily mussing up his hair and purposely combing his bangs to conceal it even though it wasn't actually visible to the naked eye. Maybe it was out of paranoia or merely out of wanting to forget.

But then, he wasn't normal by any means.

The cause of him reminiscing about his features was due to his misplaced contact lenses.

When he had been in second grade, his Japanese History teacher, Sarushima-sensei, had exasperatedly asked Takeshi why he wasn't taking the initiative to copy lectures. She had, apparently, heard from other instructors about the same problem. Even if he was doing well in class, they were bothered about the behaviour. And it wasn't until his father heard about it that Takeshi unwillingly admitted the real quandary.

Since he had lost his glasses while roaming the streets of Japan, he had coped with squinting at things so badly and simply acquiesced to his instincts.

Obviously, it wasn't the same when in class. The oral lecture of the teacher helped a lot, that was for certain, but Takeshi had tried not to let others noticed his eye problem by copying off questions from his seatmate when they were assigned some seatwork. But the lecture, he merely compensated by remembering everything he heard. He guessed that the teachers took offense and assumed that he wasn't putting any effort.

Tsuyoshi had instantly brought him to an ophthalmologist for a prescription at that time and still had his annual check-ups until now.

But, glasses got in the way of baseball.

And, even if Takeshi stated again and again that he could play without the glasses, had been doing it for almost two years by then, both the doctor, Kanda-san, and his father, would hear none of his excuses. Though, his father thought that the reason he didn't want to wear glasses was due to his relatives. But Tsuyoshi wouldn't know that anything to help with his eyesight before he got used to the blurry world was a blessing. Though, he was happy with using contact lenses since it meant that he wouldn't worry about his vision since the possibility of losing the contacts along a baseball game, class, or maybe even a fight was close to nil.

Now, he was quite sure that he placed said object on top of his dresser before he fell asleep last night.

Only, it wasn't there and it's been almost five years since he last entered the blurry world.

Sighing exasperatedly, he decided that he would worry about it when he got home later since he didn't want to be late to school and opted to wear the emergency glasses purchased by his father if such a situation like this ever arose. Takeshi was just glad that he did. The glasses had a regular thick black frame with rectangular shaped casing around the lenses. Putting it on as he faced the mirror seemed a little surreal and he marvelled at the familiar yet distant weight on the bridge of his nose.

Looking at his reflection, he grinned widely and gave a somewhat dorky peace sign. It made him look one of those nerdy people and Takeshi honestly didn't mind.

Now, if only most of the people from his school would stop blushing like crazy every time he faced them with his temporary look, then he really wouldn't mind. After all, even Kurokawa Hana and Sawada Tsunayoshi, the former renowned for being blasé towards him and the latter known for having an enormous crush on Sasagawa Kyoko, became so flustered at the sight of him.

Takeshi knew then that he should probably be worried.

And Reborn, watching the whole event with amusement, resolved to do this again another time in the future.

* * *

**15.**

When a transfer student by the name of Gokudera Hayato arrived in their class, Takeshi almost went along with his impulse to withdraw a nonexistent shinai or bokken from his side and simply point it on the other boy's throat. He didn't understand the sudden urge but calmed himself when he felt no real malice from the other. At least, one that wasn't forced. He tried to laugh it off when the silver haired boy glowered in Sawada's direction but he wasn't blind to the assessing gaze Gokudera was currently giving the brunette.

Still, he could already see the signs of judgmental criticism. Yamamoto wouldn't let it bother him until he saw for himself what it was all about. After all, someone foreign had taken a sudden interest on Sawada Tsunayoshi and said boy didn't even know the Italian silverette.

If there was anything he had been good at, it was always giving everyone the benefit of the doubt.

So, he let things play out even when during lunch break, he could've sworn that Gokudera had chased after a very terrified Sawada Tsunayoshi. And, when both missed their afternoon classes, he tried to pretend that it was merely fireworks when he heard the familiar bang (the same one when Sawada went to fight Mochida at the school gym) and the following explosions. After all, it was easy to pretend to know nothing. That had always been the case, wasn't it? Pretending had been _too easy_.

Looking out the window, he smiled tiredly to himself and, for once, thought about when the charade would finally cease.

Sometimes, it was just so hard to even see an end to it.

He knew that he made the right decision when, the next day, he grinned to himself as he realized that Sawada finally earned himself a friend. Even if it was in the form of a violent, short-tempered, silver haired Italian who made it a habit of waving _dynamites_ in front of people's face too casually for his peace of mind. He was glad that Sawada still had a lot of hope yet. Sighing at how Gokudera glared at him for staring at them, Takeshi wondered if any hope was held out of his reach this time.

Everything had been too good to be true. He finally had a family, friends, and even baseball. If his own blood had rejected him for who he really was, then what were the chances that these people, ones who barely knew him, would really accept him? Tsuyoshi was an exception. The man was just too kind and Takeshi sometimes worried that he took too much advantage of the man's kindness.

* * *

**16.**

Takeshi knew a chance when he saw one.

And since he was a child, he had always been an opportunist. Still, listening to their other classmates discourage and practically mocked the brunette, Takeshi couldn't help but frown. Every person had at least something they were good at and Sawada just had yet to find his. After all, he wasn't born instantly good at baseball and it took listening to his instincts to even keep up with his natural streak for it.

He was glad that Sawada and Gokudera weren't expelled from school. He hadn't always liked Nezu-sensei, anyway. It wasn't only Sawada who had been embarrassed by the arrogant teacher. If it had been merely Takeshi himself, he wouldn't mind. After all, he had taken some form of hatred worse than what the man had always expressed. But there had been those few classmates who became so discouraged that they didn't even have to heart to try harder anymore. Takeshi disliked the most was bringing others down just so one would feel good about themselves.

So, he grinned and approached the brunette for the first time since he had first taken notice of him.

"Maa, leave him alone," He chastised his classmates as he tapped a startled Sawada Tsunayoshi on the shoulder. "Isn't it alright? Just join our team!" He exclaimed brightly, not even minding the fact that the others were staring at him incredulously or Sawada was gawking at him with supreme disbelief on his face.

"Are you serious, Yamamoto?" Hiro Satoshi, one of their classmates, instantly voiced his scepticism. "You don't have to let that loser in," He further complained with a scowl.

But, Takeshi had always been patient.

He had been quick to dissuade his classmates of any reservations and instantly claimed responsibility. Sawada was looking at him in awe but Takeshi doubted that the brunette would still feel that way if he just knew who Takeshi really was or what those people who claimed to like him really thought of him. The respect wasn't unmistakable. But, sometimes, with respect came envy and resentment that even he didn't know how to set them apart anymore.

He ignored the squealing of their female classmates and stared at Sawada as he played for the team. The brunette wasn't the most graceful person out there, he would admit, but if Sawada just let go of the hesitation colouring his actions... Takeshi smiled and had no doubt that the brunette would go far.

Feeling _that_ familiar prick at the back of his neck, Takeshi subtly inclined his head as his eyes searched over his shoulder. There was someone watching him and his insides were crawling with anticipation and slight trepidation. This hadn't been the first time that he had encountered this feeling. If anything, it was merely stronger today and he wondered what that someone was watching him over for.

Even if their team lost, Takeshi was still somehow tingling with positive energy as he expertly ignored that gaze that was somehow boring holes at the back of his head. Their classmates were extremely annoyed at the outcome and merely pushed the clean-up duty on Sawada alone. Takeshi couldn't have that.

Still, Takeshi knew a chance when he saw one.

So, grabbing another broom from the shed, he smiled and hummed under his breath as he moved to help the brunette. His smile widened as Sawada stared at him with wide eyes and Takeshi couldn't help the flash of sadness within him as he thought of how this mere action brought so much astonishment to Sawada.

"Sorry, it's my entire fault!" The brunette hastily apologized, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "Just when you let me in the team, no less..."

"Don't worry about it, it's only PE," Takeshi pacified good-naturedly with a laugh and his words were true anyway. Compared to the world out there, this was _just PE_. "Besides, aren't you amazing lately? Like in the Kendo battle and the volleyball tournament? I've got you checked in my book," He grinned at the brunette who was stuttering in embarrassment as a familiar dust of pink made its familiar way to his cheeks.

Sawada was just so... pure in a way Takeshi hadn't thought of considering the brunette's social life in school. Takeshi was glad anyway.

He suddenly had an unexpected flash of insight as he gazed at his feet.

He knew that he wasn't one to waste any chances but being here right now suddenly had him questioning what he really wanted to say. To him, he had _a lot_ of things he wanted to admit to, to confess, just so he could hear that everything was _fine_. But, that had always been the hard part, hadn't it?

"In comparison, I just play baseball like it's all I know," Takeshi stated slowly as his eyes shifted to the brunette who was raptly listening to his words.

Baseball was something he took so much pride in. But, his words weren't true. He had his father, his Kendo, and the shop. It was just that everything just seemed so out of his reach lately. He had been more absentminded and his average in baseball had been recently suffering for it. If he was just willing to admit the problem, then it would've been much easier.

Magic was a complicated concept.

It was something Takeshi didn't take any pride in. In fact, it was something he'd rather do without considering how much grief it had cost him. He was doing so much better in life now. So, he couldn't understand _why_ it had to be ruined by that aspect of his life that he just... couldn't accept. He had always been good at ignoring things but when it came to magic, it always slapped him in the most unexpected ways possible. He would admit that he had run away from a lot of things but why couldn't he just leave that factor of his existence behind?

For now, he would just compare it to his baseball average and hoped that even with the correlation, Sawada would be able to give him some kind of answer.

"What–" Sawada sputtered almost helplessly. "What're you talking about? It's that baseball skill that's amazing!" The brunette flailed as he tried to pacify Takeshi.

Staring at his hands sadly, Takeshi sighed.

_Magic isn't amazing..._

"It's not going that well..." He told the brunette honestly this time but it wasn't about baseball. It never was. After all, Tanaka Ichirou was still waiting for his answer and no matter how much the man was willing to give him the time he needed, Takeshi saw no other option out of it.

He had Sawada's undivided attention now.

"Lately, no matter how much I practice, my average is dropping and my fielding is screwing up," _No matter how much I tried to deny it, magic would always exist as a part of me. No matter how much I ran, it was always there._ He had been more preoccupied than he thought that the coach had to yell at him that one time."At this rate, it'll be the first time I don't start since I began playing baseball," _At this rate, I don't have a choice anymore and I may lose everything I've managed to achieve as Takeshi..._ It was just one year in middle school if he wouldn't be able to start and Takeshi knew he had a lot of chances to pick up his slack. But if his choice was taken away from him, he might not even have that chance anymore.

Smiling helplessly, he stared at the brunette.

"Tsuna..." It was the first time he referred to the brunette so familiarly. "What should I do?" _I don't know what to do anymore..._

Seeing the brunette so bothered, Takeshi wasn't so sure about pushing his problems on him.

"Just kidding," He tried to laugh it off as he avoided the other's stare. "Lately, you've been just so reliable, I can't help myself,"

For a moment, the brunette stared at him with an unreadable expression before he avoided Takeshi's gaze as he broke out into cold sweat. Takeshi didn't know what warranted the sudden alarm in the boy but he wasn't willing to push him.

"I guess... more effort is the way to go about it, I think," Tsuna replied uncertainly as he didn't meet Takeshi's eyes.

_More effort... Of course,_ He grinned widely at the response, even though he was unsure himself. _Maybe, I haven't run away enough? After all, I'm just waiting for Tanaka-san to give the word and I'll be off to __**that**__ world. But, will it be enough?_ For some reason, he felt frustration mounting up within him. He didn't know if it was worth it anymore.

Still, Tsuna was right. If he just sat there idly, nothing would happen.

"You know, I think you're right," He stated instead as he slung an arm over the brunette's shoulder, not wanting the other to know that he was still troubled. "We kind of agree on that one,"

"R-Really?" The brunette stared at him in surprise.

Takeshi nodded.

"In fact, I'll remain here and practice like hell," _I'll practice so much so I can forget everything... It's always been easier that way, isn't it?_ He tried to pretend that he hadn't heard that line of thinking before. It had always been the easy way out. And baseball always soothed his frustrations so he would really be staying, anyway.

Watching the brunette walk away from the field, Takeshi let the smile drop and wondered if this was really the end of it.

* * *

**17.**

When he broke his arm yesterday, Takeshi had been numb even as he went home from the hospital.

To him, it had been a bad omen.

It was like something was telling him that everything he held dear was about to be seized and baseball was just the start of it. After all, his magic could've stopped that ball from hitting his arm when he used the team's pitching machine. But, _it didn't_. This was the first time since his relatives left him in Japan that he felt so _afraid_. His father had tried to mollify him and Takeshi let him since he wasn't even sure if he'd be taken away from the man too.

Now, standing at the ledge of the rooftop, he stared at the sky and sighed.

Unknown to anyone in his school, except maybe Hibari-senpai, this was how he would always be found on the rooftop when he needed to think. The thrill of one wrong misstep that could send him to his doom or the strong wind that would always push him back as if it wouldn't let it happen. Now, looking at the ground five stories below, he wondered how it would feel to fall down there and if his magic would save him. Maybe it would or maybe it wouldn't. He didn't even know if he wanted it to. Still, he didn't have any intention of jumping and finding out but morbid curiosity kept him standing where he was.

To his chagrin, that was how one of his classmates found him.

That should've been a clue that he really needed to get out of the ledge. But, Takeshi didn't and he really wondered how it would be to feel the wind slapping his cheeks if he ever went through free fall. Would his magic let him fly? Would it let him float? Laughing to himself, he couldn't help but think that the possibilities behind it made magic _a little bit_ appealing. Now, baseball couldn't save him.

He blinked at the crowd that suddenly formed at the rooftop. Were they here to stop him? _Do they really care enough if he died?_

Takeshi knew that he wouldn't really commit suicide. Tsuyoshi wouldn't forgive him. But, it really made him think if this people cared enough to bother. He just needed one of them to give him _one reason_ so he wouldn't think that this was almost worth it.

"Hey, Yamamoto! This isn't funny!" One of his classmates yelled and Takeshi couldn't help but think that when had something like this ever been fun to begin with?

"You're taking it too far!" Another stated frantically.

They thought he couldn't hear them but they were already whispering to each other how a broken arm didn't warrant him to commit suicide. _It was just baseball anyway._ At those words, he froze as his grip over his broken arm tightened.

He smiled sadly and felt sorry for himself on why he even expected something different from them.

Instead, he played to their hand and stared at his hand with the most forlorn expression he could come up with.

"Heh, sorry, but that's not true," He stated softly as he looked at his arm. And part of him felt extremely disappointed that they believed him. It just showed how much they didn't know him. He wasn't oblivious to the part that his arm could still be healed. Baseball was his saviour but his father was also his saviour. And he couldn't let Tsuyoshi down. Not again. Not after he let his grades decline since elementary. "After the baseball god threw me away, I have nothing left,"

He could tell that they were panicking and he almost blew the charade and laughed. As expected, this was just _too easy_. He was sad but he was disappointed and he was angry. At himself.

Then, through the mass of murmuring students, there was Tsuna.

The brunette was panicking but Takeshi could tell that it was due to being the sudden center of attention. He almost smiled at the familiar way the brunette would get flustered in the middle of a crowd focused on him. _Where's that fierce expression of yours, Tsuna? Where's that sudden will to do everything you want?_ He wondered to himself contemplatively as he remembered the sudden change.

"If you came to stop me, it's no use," He maintained in playing his role as he gave the brunette a sad smile. "You should be able to understand my feelings, ne?" The feeling that these people wouldn't really care, as if everything had given up on him. Everything had been so distant lately.

Then, he did something he regretted by mentioning the boy's status as Dame-Tsuna and Takeshi instantly felt guilty at the ashamed expression on the brunette's face. But then, his eyes widened when the brunette mentioned how they were different so he couldn't really understand. The frustration from before came out more profoundly now and Takeshi suddenly realized what he really wanted from the other boy. He wanted _understanding_.

And the other was denying it. So, he pushed and called him arrogant.

Suddenly, Tsuna was talking and _talking_ and every word made Takeshi feel light-hearted for the first time in days since the confirmation that magic really exist. Suddenly, his problem seemed so insignificant. And someone's honest opinion made him see it for the first time.

Grinning to himself, he thought that _Tsuna was wrong_ and he was right. Tsuna _did_ understand.

They were both being arrogant. He had been distressed about having no other options only because _he let it_ be that way. Instead, he was merely allowing it to happen and would rather have regrets and second-thoughts later on. He hadn't even given it any effort and, for all the "intense thoughts" that he had, like the brunette mentioned, he hadn't even tried in the first place. To know that this person had at least tried, Takeshi felt that he was holding out on himself.

As the brunette tried to get out of the attention, Takeshi chuckled as he pulled him back.

What he didn't expect was for both of them to topple over the edge. And _fall_.

Would magic save him this time? Laughing, he spread out his arms and rejoiced in the feeling of wind around him. Tsuna was already crying at the thought of meeting the ground and the possibility of death. Takeshi didn't see it that way.

His eyes sharpened as he heard a familiar bang and, suddenly, Tsuna was in his boxers and saving both of them. He didn't really notice much of anything aside from the second bang that followed and they were suddenly sprawled on the ground. But _alive_. Magic didn't save him. _Tsuna_ saved him. So, he laughed and laughed and felt tears streaming down his face. The fierce expression and fire on Tsuna's forehead disappeared and Takeshi smiled at the brunette with all the sincerity he felt.

The worried expression on Tsuna's face warmed his heart.

"Yamamoto, are you ok?" The brunette asked frantically as his eyes roved for possible injuries. "I'm so sorry!" He apologized once again, assuming that he was crying for nearly dying.

Takeshi just grinned and wiped the tears away. But they were still streaming out no matter what he did.

"Tsuna, you're so...amazing," He pressed his palm on his forehead and gave the brunette a smile full of hope. "Just like you said, do it with my _dying will_,"

"Eh?" The boy looked stunned.

"Thank you," He stated softly as he wiped the tears away and felt glad that they eventually stopped coming out. "That wasn't one of my brilliant plans, huh? I don't know what came over me. Nothing really comes out of my idiocy," Takeshi admitted with a chuckle, especially when he knew that he hadn't planned on committing suicide in the first place.

"U-Uhm, that is, it wasn't your f-fault–"

"You'd make a really good friend, you know?" Takeshi instead commented as he lay back on the ground. Smiling to himself, he gazed at the brunette and thought that maybe, this was his chance. Someone understood him.

The brunette blushed to the roots of his hair.

Tsuna became the friend who understood him without even trying. And Takeshi would always keep him.

* * *

**18.**

When he came home that night and saw Tanaka-san once again, Takeshi didn't falter in his steps as he approached the other man.

"I'll do it," He stated determinedly as he stared back at those piercing eyes with resolve.

If the man was surprised, he didn't show it. If anything, he looked as if he was disappointed since he had expected otherwise. But Takeshi knew that for all the running away and good that it did him, maybe, it was time to stop running away and face it. All he was doing was putting himself under unnecessary pressure and fear.

"But..." He cut in before Tanaka-san got the wrong idea. "I'll only do it if you promise me that I'll always go back to _this_," Takeshi gestured around him and he didn't need to elaborate as a flash of understanding came to the sandy blonde haired man's eyes.

For a moment, Tanaka-san only stared at him before the man sighed and ruffled Takeshi's hair.

"Of course," He said in slight exasperation. "If anything, it's a wise choice,"

Because Takeshi honestly didn't care about magic. What mattered to him was being able to go back _home_. To his dad, to Kendo, to their sushi shop, to baseball, to his friend, and to _his life_. Even if he was different, as long as he could keep everything he had, it was enough.

For all the amazing things that magic was supposed to be, it could never give him all what he had today.

* * *

**19.**

When Takeshi was first brought to the Mitsukage Magical District, he would admit that his first glimpse of the magical world was awe-inspiring.

He even passed by a lady who had changed her kimono on the road with a grander one. Or that man when he tossed his apple which transformed into a pear. The shops were as colourful as he imagined them to be and people were just so... active about using their magic.

Still, when he thought of Uncle Vernon's honest-to-Kami fear, he couldn't help but see it with a sense of wariness. Tanaka-san was merely bringing him around for a tour and he was rest assured that he didn't even have to bother about anything since the school, Japanese Lyceum of Spell Crafting, had already provided for everything he would need. Part of him felt suspicious at the way the school was catering to his needs, but he just smiled uncertainly when asked about it.

It was explained that he wouldn't even need to use a wand like the western wizards were prone to do. In the east, wandless magic was more preferable and he had been given a book to study about its history and another one about its basics which included the rudimentary hand signs and symbols.

Takeshi hadn't touched it since he had brought it home. Even if his 'study' wouldn't be starting until next month, he was going to enjoy the ordinary days while he could. Though, he had taken to forming different signs with his hands to practice his dexterity when he could.

Though, his highlight of the week came in the form of Tsuna's home tutor by the name of Reborn.

When Takeshi first met him, he instantly knew that the other wasn't an ordinary kid no matter how much he addressed the other as such. In fact, he didn't even doubt it when he had introduced himself as the 'Vongola Family's Hitman'. The moment he had touched him and settled him on his shoulder, Takeshi had instantly felt an odd tingle from him. It wasn't until his shoulder had gone numb from where the hitman sat that he realized. The other was encased with...something almost similar to magic. One that was much stronger than magic that it obviously overcame his own power, judging from his tingling shoulder.

But, Tsuna seemed very nervous about him meeting Reborn so Takeshi placated him by pretending that he hadn't noticed anything strange going on. Gokudera seemed unimpressed with that one. Though, it was the first time that Takeshi had to play oblivious for someone instead of covering his own tracks.

"The Tenth Head of the family is Tsuna," Reborn remarked matter-of-factly from his shoulder.

"Oh," He smiled at the little hitman indulgently. "I think he's a good choice for a boss," He laughed at the way Tsuna was gawking at them, though, to be fair, he couldn't feel his shoulder anymore or his whole back now for that matter.

Takeshi stared at them.

He would admit that he was still uncertain about the mafia. But whatever strange energy Reborn was emitting, it was definitely _something_. Something that wasn't magic. Takeshi felt guilty for being selfish but he felt so... normal with them. It was as if he was the odd one out for being ordinary. And he didn't exactly know what to feel.

Though, he was certain of one thing. If this was really the mafia, then Tsuna was perfect for the job. They could do with some good.

"Let me join this Vongola Family, too," Takeshi impulsively decided as he gazed at Reborn who was returning it with a calculative one. Takeshi saw something unreadable flashed in those beady black eyes before the hitman was calling Tsuna and Gokudera's attention. As expected, Tsuna was already flailing and panicking. For all the fear that he showed Reborn, the brunette was quite determined to keep Takeshi out of the 'mafia'. So, the dark haired boy took the initiative and asked what he needed to do.

A family entrance test.

He thought that was pretty legitimate. Considering this was the mafia they were talking about. And had said so to Reborn even if he hid it behind seemingly oblivious words.

"If you can't pass the test, then you can't enter the family," Reborn stated as he jumped off of Takeshi's shoulder. He hid his relief well when the feeling started to come back to his shoulder and back. He was certain that had Reborn stayed any longer, he might've started to get numb in the arms, too. Then, the hitman stared at him almost cheekily. Takeshi raised an eyebrow in return. "If you don't pass the test, it equals your death," Something shifted in the hitman's character and he barely noticed it but something gleamed in those dark eyes. Something almost... predatory.

Takeshi's eyes sharpened as he stared back.

The hitman's eyes were almost daring him to crack. Reborn had caught on quicker than he had thought. Takeshi didn't exactly know if it was alright to let his guard down or not. But, he had been doing this for years so he went along with his instincts.

"Ha-ha, you're so funny," He laughed as he crouched down and patted the other's fedora hat. "I like you," Takeshi commented blithely, his eyes slightly narrowing with his widening smile.

So focused as he was on Reborn, he missed Tsuna's expression of absolute horror.

The test had been to simply dodge. Easy. Only, he had to watch Reborn's hand closely to be able to tell the knives' trajectory and _dodge_. He caught the hitman's eye and Takeshi could've sworn he saw him smirk. When Tsuna jumped in front of him and protested at the sudden turn of events, Takeshi had been quick to assure him so he could deal with it on his own. And Tsuna had been so quick to be blindsided when presented with ridiculous things. Such as conveying it in a way as if he was regarding it as a child's game. This wasn't simply about joining the family. This was now between him and Reborn no matter how many numerous things went unsaid.

But Reborn changed the rules and included Tsuna. Takeshi went along with it simply because he knew Reborn wouldn't permanently harm his student. Not if he was really an ally of the Vongola. Takeshi guessed as much.

And he knew that Reborn was taking _too much _interest in this since he noticed that the throws were lethal and there had been a few close calls.

Laughing to cover up the tension within him, he just told Tsuna to enjoy it.

"Recent toys seemed so real," He suddenly blurted out to a panicking brunette. "Those looked like real knives," _Come on, Tsuna, read between the lines..._ He thought encouragingly but the brunette just shot him an incredulous look for his words. His friend didn't seem to understand but what Takeshi wanted to tell was that Reborn wasn't holding back. At least, not as he usually did if the familiar way Tsuna had been dealing with the apparent sadism of the hitman was anything to go on with.

Then, things got hectic and so mixed up when Gokudera and some obnoxious kid named Lambo joined in throwing weapons at them. Takeshi trusted his instincts too much for it never failed him. But when the explosion had been too much, Tsuna had suddenly become priority and those instincts were thrown out the proverbial window. He earned some scratches and scrapes but he only breathed a sigh of relief when he had managed to pull himself out of that one with his friend. He sent a severe glance at Reborn who expertly ignored it.

He helped Tsuna settle on the ground. Though, he could tell that the sudden pale countenance was more out of shock than any injury so he let his annoyance at Reborn go.

Said hitman approached him with something akin to approval in his eyes and something foreboding.

"You passed the test. You're officially part of the family," There was something final about his words and there was an unmistakable edge in it that had Takeshi straightening himself. He returned the stare evenly before he broke out into a grin.

"Thanks," He settled as he scratched the back of his head. Though, his eyes spoke a different sentiment as he saw the hitman's conniving look. _What are you up to...?_

But he didn't get to have his answer since Gokudera was suddenly there, congratulating and thanking him for saving the 'Juudaime'. Though, even though he had been mostly teasing him, he was surprise to note that the silver haired Italian was very touchy about the subject of his position as Tsuna's right hand man. In fact, just as if they were about to get along smoothly, the other was now regarding him with hostility for even suggesting about wanting to be the brunette's right hand man.

Grinning at Gokudera's fuming form, he picked up his bag and approached Reborn with a determined glint in his eye. The miniature hitman had challenged him. And Takeshi had never turned them down. Not yet, anyway.

"Well, I have to go to club practice," He announced offhandedly with an astute smile. "See ya, _shorty_." It was a subtle retort and Takeshi found himself smiling at the wicked gleam that entered Reborn's eyes which promised misfortune for him in the near future. He couldn't help the triumphant feeling within him.

"Alright," The hitman had been swift to acquiesce.

Looking at Tsuna's nervous countenance one last time, Takeshi couldn't hold in the laughter.

"Those bombs and toys seemed so real, ne, Tsuna?" He commented casually if not a little bit impishly. _I won't be caught off guard next time, that's a promise..._

The look of shock on the brunette's face was almost worth it.

He just wished that he hadn't made the wrong decision. Mafia seemed like a dangerous world. And treating it like a game wasn't doing any good. But... Reborn's challenging stare and Tsuna's hopeful but regretful eyes made him think otherwise. Unlike other people, Tsuna was willing to know him and, even if he didn't yet, he understood Takeshi on some level that no one had ever been able to do before. He might not be done pretending but he wasn't actively hiding anymore. That made all the difference.

At least, he had them with him. He just hoped that it would stay that way once they knew the truth.

* * *

**20.**

When Reborn told him that Yamamoto was a natural born hitman, Tsuna couldn't believe it.

The other boy was so care-free, very kind, and helplessly oblivious to the point that he treated the Mafia as a game. He didn't know if someone with the latter attitude could even comprehend the idea of assassinating someone or taking a person's life because it was a mission or duty. So, even as he sighed at his tutor's remark, he couldn't help but sometimes think that Yamamoto _might_ have it in him. The innocence didn't matter. The way his eyes would sharpen at the most crucial moments or the way he was quick to notice things even if his assumptions about them were incorrect made Tsuna somewhat wary.

Then, there was the baseball star's habit of absentmindedly staring at the sky or just doing some odd gestures with his hand when he thought no one was looking. Tsuna found that Yamamoto was also good at evading things he didn't really want to tread on. If anything, if he didn't know any better, the boy was too used to everyone avoiding talking about himself. And that alone was odd considering how popular the boy was. What he thought he knew just didn't match to what he saw today.

But what really cemented the idea that there was something more to Yamamoto, as observed by his tutor, was when Reborn ordered them to sneak into the Student Council's office one day just so he could practice his stealth skills. Or, so the diminutive hitman said. Tsuna had the suspicion that it wasn't really him who was being tested. In fact, he had a strong hunch that Reborn seemed to like Yamamoto for some unspoken reason. The sudden interest was just terrifying. Of course, it had been just their luck that the key to said office was in the Disciplinary Committee Chairman's hands.

Hibari Kyouya was someone Tsuna wouldn't rather cross paths with. Not after that incident in the Reception Room where the Prefect easily subdued his friends.

"Don't worry about it, Tsuna, just leave it to me," Yamamoto had grinned at him confidently. Tsuna paled since he knew that he couldn't let his friend deal with the Head Prefect. No matter how much he, himself, didn't want to too.

"Do you even have a plan, you idiot!" Gokudera growled at the tall boy.

Yamamoto just smiled at them as if it _really_ was easy.

"Trust me," There was something mischievous in the dark haired boy's eyes that somehow reminded Tsuna of Reborn.

Since Gokudera was paranoid, he had roped Tsuna into following after the baseball star. Tsuna was glad they did. He didn't expect to see the other casually stroll to the Reception Room where the Disciplinary Committee was situated and patiently wait by the door. They were about to approach Yamamoto at his rather straightforward plan until Reborn intervened and told them to watch. He had been panicking since he knew that anything upfront brought to the Prefect always warranted Hibari-san biting someone to death.

He watched with trepidation as Hibari stalked towards Yamamoto with all the grace of a killer and Tsuna prayed that Yamamoto would get away in one piece.

"Yo, Hibari!" Yamamoto greeted casually with a cheery grin.

"What are you doing here, herbivore?" Hibari was quick to demand as his eyes narrowed. "If you dare to cause trouble with that band of herbivores you call friends, I'll bite you to death,"

Yamamoto raised an eyebrow but, otherwise, didn't say anything.

When the silence stretched longer and it seemed that the baseball star wouldn't be saying anything, Hibari scoffed as he strode to his office while Yamamoto met him halfway. The prefect eyed the smiling dark haired boy suspiciously as they passed one another but other than that, ignored him and entered his office.

Tsuna breathed out a sigh of relief. Yamamoto was alive.

Their friend was quick to notice their presence and casually ambled towards them with that same light-hearted grin. Tsuna didn't know what the other's purpose had been but he was just glad that there was no bloodshed or whatsoever.

"Leave it to you! You did nothing back there!" Gokudera was quick to accuse as he glowered at Yamamoto.

But then, the dark haired boy brought out a ring of keys and twirled it through the ring with his finger.

"Did you say something, Gokudera?" Yamamoto questioned nonchalantly.

Their jaws dropped as they suddenly understood what happened. Yamamoto Takeshi had pickpocketed Hibari Kyouya and _got away with it_ because the Head Prefect hadn't even noticed. Yamamoto laughed at their reactions as he casually strolled ahead of them. Though, he paused, as if remembering something, and offhandedly tossed Gokudera a handful of dynamites before sauntering ahead. The bomber barely caught them in his shock as he stared at the other with wide disbelieving eyes. None of them were even aware that Yamamoto made a move.

"That, Dame-Tsuna, is _skill_," Reborn remarked from a stunned Tsuna's hair where he had been perched the whole time.

* * *

_TBC..._

* * *

**Important Notes:** Anyway, for Harry, he should have a pretty good idea why his relatives hated him. After all, the Dursleys would've certainly been more tolerant of him if he didn't have bursts of magic from time to time. And it's enough reason for him to fear it when he felt that he had achieved so much in life. Magic had given him a worst start and Takeshi was just afraid that the things he had now would also have a worst end. So, I just elaborated on what he felt. Though, as for the understanding part, to me, Tsuna and Takeshi were just two boys who were running from reality. And that was something they could bond with on some level.

**Also**, this was how I imagined Harry if he finally had a taste of a normal life. In canon, his relatives hated him for his magic. But since their hatred was pretty much embedded to him, not only was the magical world his saviour but the way I saw it, immersing himself in it was some sort of revenge for himself as well and it had been the only escape (Since anything had been better than his relatives). Now, to him, the only memory of magic that had stayed with him was the hatred that came with it for being different. My take on this is that, now that he had a taste of a good life and didn't have such a burdening reason to escape (and maybe resent) his muggle life, it would be the opposite. He would be hesitant to leave all that when he finally had a good taste of what he really deserved. Something magic couldn't promise him this time. Since in HPCanon, the magical world had been his only chance for friends, family, and belonging.

**Lastly**, for the interaction between Reborn and Takeshi, I told you that he would be more jaded. And with it came stronger instincts and sharper perception. Reborn easily recognized that. And Takeshi was meeting him head on due to curiosity. After all, the mafia suddenly seemed stranger than magic and he could feel the power of Reborn's curse. Something _almost_ similar to magic, as stated previously. The pickpocket part... well, I wanted to write that one badly. I mentioned that during the start of my first chapter for a reason. I told you. Even with the strong similarities, **this Harry-Takeshi will be different.**

Thank you for reading this. Leave a review on your way out :)


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